SCENE I.
Olivia's Garden.
Enter Viola, and Clown with a tabor.
Vio.
Save thee, friend, and thy musick: Dost
thou live by the tabor?
Clo.
No, sir, I live by the church7 note
.
-- 430 --
Vio.
Art thou a churchman?
Clo.
No such matter, sir; I do live by the
church: for I do live at my house, and my house
doth stand by the church.
Vio.
So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar8 note,
if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church
stands by the tabor, if thy tabor stand by the
church.
Clo.
You have said, sir.—To see this age!—
A sentence is but a cheveril glove9 note to a good wit;
How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
Vio.
Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely
with words, may quickly make them wanton.
Clo.
I would therefore, my sister had had no
name, sir.
-- 431 --
Vio.
Why, man?
Clo.
Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally
with that word, might make my sister wanton:
But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced
them.
Vio.
Thy reason, man?
Clo.
Troth, sir, I can yield you none without
words; and words are grown so false, I am loath
to prove reason with them.
Vio.
I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and
carest for nothing.
Clo.
Not so, sir, I do care for something: but
in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if
that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would
make you invisible.
Vio.
Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool?
Clo.
No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no
folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married;
and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to
herrings, the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed,
not her fool, but her corrupter of words.
Vio.
I saw thee late at the count Orsino's.
Clo.
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like
the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry,
sir, but he fool should be as oft with your master,
as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom
there.
Vio.
Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more
with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.
Clo.
Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair,
send thee a beard!
Vio.
By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick
for one; though I would not have it grow on my
chin. Is thy lady within?
Clo.
Would not a pair of these have bred, sir1 note
?
-- 432 --
Vio.
Yes, being kept together, and put to use.
Clo.
I would play lord Pandarus2 note of Phrygia,
sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.
Vio.
I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd.
Clo.
The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging
but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar3 note
. My
lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence
you come; who you are, and what you would, are
out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the
word is over-worn.
[Exit.
Vio.
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time;
And, like the haggard4 note
, check at every feather
-- 433 --
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fallen5 note
, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Sir To.
Save you, gentleman.
Vio.
And you, sir.
Sir And.
Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
Vio.
Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
Sir And.
I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours6 note
.
-- 434 --
Sir To.
Will you encounter the house? my
niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be
to her7 note.
Vio.
I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she
is the list8 note of my voyage.
Sir To.
Taste your legs, sir9 note
, put them to
motion.
-- 435 --
Vio.
My legs do better understand me, sir, than
I understand what you mean by bidding me taste
my legs.
Sir To.
I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
Vio.
I will answer you with gait and entrance:
But we are prevented1 note
.
Enter Olivia and Maria.
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!
Sir And.
That youth's a rare courtier! Rain
odours! well.
Vio.
My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your
own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear2 note
.
Sir And.
Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:—
I'll get 'em all three all ready3 note
.
Oli.
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me
to my hearing.
[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria.
Give me your hand, sir.
Vio.
My duty, madam, and most humble service.
-- 436 --
Oli.
What is your name?
Vio.
Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
Oli.
My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
You are servant to the count Orsino, youth.
Vio.
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours;
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
Oli.
For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
Vio.
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf:—
Oli.
O, by your leave, I pray you;
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than musick from the spheres.
Vio.
Dear lady,—
Oli.
Give me leave, 'beseech you3 note
: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here4 note
,
-- 437 --
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: What might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving5 note
-- 438 --
Enough is shown; a cyprus6 note, not a bosom,
Hides my heart: So let me hear you speak7 note
.
Vio.
I pity you.
Oli.
That's a degree to love.
Vio.
No, not a grise8 note
; for 'tis a vulgar proof9 note,
That very oft we pity enemies.
Oli.
Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again:
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf?
[Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.—
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.
Vio.
Then westward-hoe1 note:
-- 439 --
Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
Oli.
Stay:
I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.
Vio.
That you do think, you are not what you are.
Oli.
If I think so, I think the same of you.
Vio.
Then think you right; I am not what I am.
Oli.
I would, you were as I would have you be!
Vio.
Would it be better, madam, than I am,
I wish it might; for now I am your fool.
Oli.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip2 note
!
A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre3 note
all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Vio.
By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has4 note; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone5 note.
-- 440 --
And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my masters tears to you deplore.
Oli.
Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
[Exeunt.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
